


Alone

by Galina



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark's Birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:02:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7018393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galina/pseuds/Galina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Tony Stark's birthday</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

28.05.16 23:00  
A lone figure sits surrounded by machinery, face lit by the many screens he has surrounded himself with. A bottle of liquor is empty beside a full glass of the bitter liquid that has coated the man’s mouth and throat. He half expects footsteps to come, followed by the sound of a woman’s voice telling him it’s time for bed. Half expects arms around his shoulders and a kiss to his cheek, but none of those things come. His eyes burn and his head hurts, words and numbers and blueprints blurring into one, but the man never turns away. He doesn’t scale the stairs back up to his bedroom, silently convincing himself that he doesn’t need to sleep.

28.05.16 23:33  
A lone figure sits, cradling his head in calloused hands, the heavy scent of liquor permeating his sense every time he breathes. His headache intensifies with every movement, every breath, and every thought. He tries to fend it off; rubbing circles into his temples although he knows that’s not what he needs. He drains the liquor from his glass and takes a deep breath to steady himself a little bit more. It helps stop the incessant buzzing in his ears enough to allow him to get back to work. The headache persists, moving down to his eyes and jaw. His shoulders and back begin to ache, and finally he sends the screens away. 

28.05.16 23:50  
A lone figure moves sluggishly, taking the stairs one at a time, gripping the hand rail with white knuckles and a tense jaw. His phone is clutched in his other hand, a slight tremor in his body. He allows himself to collapse into a chair, reaching across the table for another bottle of liquor; this one is half full. The golden liquid spills a little when he pours it into the glass, but the man can’t bring himself to care. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices an old phone, unused and holding nothing but one phone number. He pretends he hasn’t seen it, though he can’t help but glance over between sips. The ache in his head is beginning to subside though his eyes still burn. He plays with his phone, spinning it round and round on the table, staring blankly at the dark screen. Though he’d never admit it, he begins to miss the voice of his AI. He misses the voice that would remind him that sleep is indeed needed to sustain human life. The thought is washed away with a hearty swig of the drink that burns its path down his throat.

28.05.16 23:59  
A lone figure sits hunched over a smart phone and one he’s never used before, an empty bottle accompanied by an empty glass at his side. His eyes tired and maybe a little bit bloodshot make him look much, much older than he is, and betray the image he has created when standing in the public eye. He turns his phone screen on and off, scanning for a message he knows will not come. He stands, and shuffles his way over to retrieve a new bottle of his favourite liquor. The taste is familiar on his tongue when he takes a sip, putting his glass down on the table with a little too much force. 

29.05.16 00:00  
A lone figure sits, glass raised and a fake, bitter smile on his face as the numbers on every clock in his tower turn to zeros. The glass is drained once again and placed carelessly on the table, almost toppling off the edge as the man’s eyes begin to water. The bitter smile falls and in a rough, emotionless voice, Tony Stark whispers “happy birthday to me” into the empty tower that had once been filled with the people he called his friends.


End file.
